That Which Binds
by Hillside Dancing On
Summary: A series of moments that became memories. A series of memories that became resolve. EluciferDuke.


**Fandom: **Tales of Vesperia  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Duke/Elucifer  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>For the entire game, basically.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> For talk of adult hand-holding between two men. Well, man and Entelexeia.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 13,943

**Disclaimer: **Tales of Vesperia isn't mine. No profit being made here. The lyric below is credit to The Weepies.  
><strong>AN: **Vesperia has a slippery time line and a plethora of tiny, easily overlooked details. Apologies if I've fumbled with either.

_I thought of you and where you'd gone _  
><em>And the world spins madly on.<em>

* * *

><p>It begins with a boy.<p>

* * *

><p>Duke has an inkling of what he's gotten into when he first picks up the little creature, lying on the side of the road, almost lost to the tall, dry grass growing up around it. Torn with scratches, matted with blood and earth, he nearly mistakes it for a fox cub chased down for its pelt, just nearly...foxes do not have blue tails. Nonetheless, he carries it back to his campsite, dresses its wounds, and wraps it warmly, silently fuming at whoever it is that has brought it to such a state. Never once does it offer to bite him, though he supposes it would be justified in doing so.<p>

The full gravity of what he has done dawns when the creature began to convalesce at a rapid rate, despite refusing to take the bits of bread soaked in milk, the water from a shallow dish, that he offers it. It never speaks to him, but that is to be understood...from what he knows of their race, the younger ones often don't.

What Duke does not expect is to wake one morning, the sun a mere sliver of carmine over the Astefiellus Mountains, and find a young Krityan man standing in his campsite.

His hand flies instinctively to grip his blade, but the stranger carries no weapon. Smiling cordially, he speaks in a voice that seems more akin to the predawn mist still hanging over the dewy grass than anything else.

"I've come to collect Corrine." When met with hesitation, his amber eyes flicker toward the tent, but there is not a trace of intimidation or threat anywhere in his demeanor. "You are the one who saved him and cared for him, correct?"

With a careful nod, Duke retreats into the tent and returns with the small fox-creature in his arms. Though it has been slumbering in a tightly curled ball of fur, it shakes off the headiness of sleep like water off the back of a duck. The instant it sees the stranger, it flies from Duke's arms with a joyful trill, scurries across the space between them, and clambers up to rest on the young man's shoulder. He touches his fingertips to its ear affectionately before returning his attention to Duke.

"If you will pardon my say so, I'm not certain what to find more impressive – that you went to aide Corrine even before realizing he was an Entelexeia or that you cared for him in spite of that."

Duke replies calmly. "Entelexeia or fox, he was badly injured. It was a small gesture; I would have been ashamed to do anything but."

"Mmm..." The man hums almost approvingly. He takes a step forward, but Duke has already stayed his hand from his sword. "A small gesture...well, if you wouldn't mind giving one more, I would very much like to have your name."

"Duke."

"Duke." The Krityan repeats, and smiles, and in the gathering light Duke gets a good look at his eyes for the first time, confirmation of his immortality, for it is impossible for a human to know as much as is gathered behind those eyes. "My name is Elucifer. And I am thoroughly pleased to meet you."

* * *

><p>Elucifer has been planning, Duke learns. As a matter of fact, his dreams took root long before the white haired man's ancestors were so much as learning to walk. He dreams of Entelexeia and human kind working closely together, ancient knowledge coming together with the fiery enthusiasm for progress born of a race that lives for all too short a time. Blastia culture slowly phasing out, war following. Peace for all living things.<p>

"There is so much to be gained for both of our races by collaborating," Elucifer tells him, and Duke wonders how many times he has tried to make his vision a reality, how many times he has failed. It is a sobering thought, but Elucifer's eyes always shine when he talks about his vision and Duke likes listening. He makes it sound so attainable, just out of reach.

"Is that why you take on the form of a Krityan?" he asks.

Elucifer smiles wryly. "I've found it makes negotiations run more smoothly. People tend to put their guard up when a monster the size of a mountain speaks to them."

"You're no monster," Duke replies. "Does it not bother you, having to change for their sakes?"

The Entelexeia arches a slim eyebrow. "Well, if you truly dislike it so much, I suppose I can learn to alter it. Take on the form of an elderly Krityan man with a wandering eye." The protests come so quickly that he laughs, soft and not unkind, and sometimes Duke is sure that Elucifer knows all too well the thoughts he hides in his predictable, mortal mind. "But I thank you for your sentiments. In any case, I consider this body a marker for progress."

"How so?"

"The day I dream of is the day it is no longer needed."

* * *

><p>Duke never asks to see Elucifer's true form; it simply doesn't seem right. In the end, he never needs to.<p>

It is not the first time he has passed through this area, nor the first time he has traveled with Elucifer, but he has always been fond of the side paths that run through Ehmead Hill. For the traveler who chooses to wander off the main road, braving the scratching, calf high grasses and slew of weak monsters, the reward comes in the form of never knowing exactly where one will exit the hill, except that it will be in full view of the sea. There is something fine and surreal about weaving through the trees, nudging thin branches aside, the sound of the waves mere background noise against the murmur of unsettled wilderness until the forest comes to an abrupt end — and there is the ocean.

He stands on the lip of the cliff, briefly pausing to breathe in the salt-soaked air. Elucifer chuckles. "You seem to quite enjoy the sea."

"Hmm. I used to do a bit of traveling by boat, working with the guilds. Why, do you as well?"

"Oh, yes. Immensely, actually." He crosses his arms behind his back with a sigh. "Sadly, I am not terribly suited for the water. I'm afraid I would sink like a stone."

"I'm sorry," says Duke. "I wasn't aware."

But Elucifer is smirking. "Oh, don't be sorry. I am able to do this."

Duke scarcely has time to turn before Elucifer tears past him, plunging headfirst over the cliff, and just that quickly it doesn't matter whether or not such a thing could kill his friend, Duke is frantically bending over the precarious rocks, heart beating out a furious hammer against the walls of its cage as he braces himself for the sight of the splash-

It is as though all the sea foam has gathered itself up to merge with the palest bands of cloud overhead, forming an enormous mass of white fur, great hills of muscle shifting as they lift upwards in a steady rising. There is a great gust of air that resonates along the cliff edge; the cutting of massive wings, he gathers in some rational part of his psyche currently stationed miles, miles away.

To say that Elucifer's true form is beautiful would be a criminal understatement. A thousand myths and legends pale and weaken in comparison, mere dreams in the shadow of the waking world. But those eyes...

The very same as they have ever been.

The sea breeze dries the tears forming in the corners of Duke's eyes long before they ever have a chance to fall.

* * *

><p>"Tell me of the world as it used to be."<p>

Duke is lying on Elucifer's endless expanse of a chest, pillowed in the tufts of white fur. Far below, the clawed feet are curled lazily in the air; above, the red mouth curls into a smile.

"That...is something of a long history. What would you like to know?"

He picks these kinds of inquiries carefully. An Entelexeia's vast wealth of knowledge comes at a steep cost – the inherent reminder of one's own paltry lifespan, and that he has only a moment to glimpse eternity.

"What it looked like, if you don't mind."

"Hmmm, that's all? You don't wish to know the scandals surrounding the ancient royal family?" Elucifer asks in mock disappointment. "Very well. You see this hillside we are lying upon?" He gestures upward vaguely, raising one paw.

Duke looks around at the fields of green grass undulating in the wind, the deep green treeline of pine and birch marking the divide between open land and dark, fathomless forest. The air rising up from the valley is as heavy as an old wine, equally sweet, far more intoxicating. There is birdsong and cicada song and every so often, out of the periphery of his vision, he notices faint movements of monsters – kin to the Entelexeia themselves – stirring the shrubs.

"I do."

Elucifer's smile broadens, but there is a wistfulness there.

"Imagine that the entire continent looked like this."

* * *

><p>"Duke? Duke, this cannot go on. We need to talk."<p>

For three whole days, Duke has been trying to think of a way to do precisely that. Time and time again the words have eluded him, drifting into a place between what he wants to say and what he knows is the right thing to do and drifting into nothingness there.

"Duke...please."

At last he speaks with the ginger and hesitance of one tending a barrel of gunpowder. "Talking would be the worst thing we could do just now. It is far wiser...that we forget what happened."

Elucifer regards him for a moment before blinking coolly. "Well, I wish you would have informed me beforehand that we were going to be forgetting it. I would have suggested we call the entire thing off." The ever present lightness he carries in his voice cannot conceal the trace of hurt there. Something deep within Duke's conscience bends.

"We both allowed our better judgments to slip away," he says, and the white lights of that since passed over storm flash before his eyes once more. He remembers how it had streaked across Elucifer's bare shoulders as the Entelexeia untied his hair; how, for a moment, it had left him unable to breathe.

"Please do not speak for my judgments," he says in a soft voice that amplifies Duke's inner ache. "Tell me the truth, Duke. Was it truly that unpleasant for you, that you wish to never speak of it again?"

"Of course not. Do not make the mistake of thinking that night was anything but...exquisite." Elucifer's frown softens and Duke wishes he had used a different word, because being truthful is not helping him make his case. "But it hardly changes the reality."

"What reality? What on earth are you talking about?"

"...It isn't right, Elucifer. Do yourself a kindness; find yourself a mate among the Entelexeia. One who is able to spend many ages with you." He forces himself to look him in the eyes; tells himself that it will be the most loving thing he can possibly do for Elucifer, stating what neither of them wants to say aloud...then letting him go. "You deserve someone to grow old with."

Elucifer stares.

Duke stares back.

A moment later, he is wrapped up in the Entelexeia's embrace, tighter than ever before, tighter than he had been when the storm broke.

"You are certifiably insane," says Elucifer, low and kind. He pushes back the curtain of white hair and presses his cheek to the base of Duke's neck, lips brushing the starting point of the long scratches descending his back. "Do you honestly believe that – _any_ of that – for even a single moment?"

"Elucifer?"

"There is not an Entelexeia in existence so blessed as I am. None of them have you."

He scrapes for the resolve it would take to shove Elucifer back, but instead finds his hands settling at his waist. He sees his own selfishness as if from another body, miles away. "In terms of your life, I occupy mere seconds."

"Then we should both be making the most of those seconds, should we not?" Duke feels, rather than sees, his smile return. "I'm inclined to think that night was a fantastic start."

And despite every chastising voice within him, Duke smiles. Whether it is a matter of changing the world or changing themselves, letting this thing they have unleashed roam free, Elucifer never changes.

He has always made it sound so easy.

* * *

><p>Always and without fail, Elucifer knows what he needs. No matter how stoic an outward appearance Duke keeps up, his friend will see through it like a clear day and ever so subtly steer them towards rectifying the issue. If he becomes hungry, Elucifer might bring him a piece of bread or bowl of meatless soup; on the road, he might suggest a shortcut that just happens to lead through an orchard. If he is exhausted and pushing himself, not wanting to delay whatever appointment they have set, Elucifer will find some excuse to set up camp. And later on, after coming to term with what their friendship has evolved into, it tends to be Elucifer who pulls them into empty rooms and secluded spots off the main road, mouth pressed eagerly against his human companion's.<p>

Duke chides him about this, of course.

"Funny," he observes, carving apples into the start of a very acceptable apple and basilisk green salad. "I thought my mother had turned me out long ago."

Elucifer pops an apple seed at him, which bounces off the tip of his nose. "My friend, if you were truly annoyed by any of it, I assure you I would know at once and desist."

Duke shakes his head. "Withdrawn. You are too much of a child to be my mother." He whisks the palm berries into the juice of their last lemon, squeezed into a shallow wooden bowl. It is a recipe he has performed countless times, always on his own, as a diet consisting solely of aer has left Elucifer a hopeless cook. "How do you do it? Are you capable of reading my thoughts?"

"Even if I could, I would not do so without telling you. No, no. You're simply easy to read."

Eventually, Duke accepts it as just another mystery of his remarkable partner, inhuman if at times frustratingly human.

Years later, he will look back on this innate inability and lay his head in his hands.

* * *

><p>They don't spend every moment together. Every so often, though generally more often than Duke prefers, his friend will disappear without fanfare – though never without a goodbye. Even when he simply vanishes overnight, a note written in his archaic scrawl will always lay in his place. Over time, Duke has grown used to it and so goes about his own business.<p>

He knows where he goes to, though. Elucifer has told him of other powerful Entelexeia, of Belius, Krones, Ashur, Rskalun, all of them sharing his vision of a peaceful, natural world, all working close with the humans who live in their vicinity. Duke thinks of him sometimes when he's on the road alone, imagines him skimming the surface of the clouds as he travels to fang-tip mountaintops starved of oxygen, deep, thick forests, canyons opened up like cupped palms, all the untouched corners of the world.

And Elucifer always comes back, sometimes with as little warning as he left.

One night in Heliord, Duke sits alone over a heavy wooden table, countless reams of paper and open tomes of blastia research leaving not an inch to spare of the broad surface, pausing only to fortify himself from the deep cup of tea perched on a coverlet. He wonders at the hour.

Just then, the silence is broken by the fall of footfalls shuffling against carpet, much too light to come from a soldier. Duke smiles.

"My friend...I am pleased to see you back so soon. How did it go?"

Elucifer stands over his shoulder, cupping his long fingers around Duke's upper arm. Fresh from the Sands of Kogorh, the smell of hot sunshine and desert wind still lingers about him. "There was no need to stay. Phaeroh still chooses neutrality, but he wishes us the best. And the people of Mantiac are thriving under the new alliance."

They lean into each other's warmth, easing away the bite of their mutual absences.

"Duke. I've been thinking it over quite a bit and...perhaps the next time I venture out on these errands...you would accompany me?"

Duke cranes back, looking at him curiously. "To promote your alliances?"

"Not merely mine. We both share the same dream, do we not?"

"Of course."

"Well, what better way to make it a reality than to work together? We both wish to see harmony between humans and Entelexeia, and there is no greater testament to the possibility than ourselves."

"Would this, by any chance, be the reason you chose to live and to travel with me?" Duke asks, not accusing, but not entirely jesting, either. "To have such an example ready?"

Elucifer rolls his eyes – the only Entelexeia, as far as Duke imagines, to do such a thing. Before he can protest, his partner has taken him by the hands and pulled him out of his chair, wrapping his arms around him loosely. "Yes, Duke. I tracked you down solely to be my pet human and further my cause. I travel the world at your side and listen to your concerns and endure the strange human mumbling noises you make when you chew fruit all due to some elaborate scheme I sketched out in the age before fire. And now, when Phaeroh tells me my plans are imbecilic, I merely need point to you and say -" He raises a triumphant finger – "'Aha! But this human here, this human _right here, _with the red eyes and the charming frown, he and I share a bed most every night! For the sake of world peace, I insist you do the same.'"

"...I am ill advised to argue with you."

"So you are," Elucifer grins. "So you are."

A day later, in a laboratory in Temza, the first Hermes blastia is activated.

* * *

><p>Soon come the meetings. Entelexeia who have hidden themselves from humanity for centuries emerge to deliver the same message in stark terms; abandon the entire concept of Hermes blastia, and destroy the ones already in existence. The world's aer supply has no hope of handling it. The number of humans who heed their words, soberly giving up their villages' Hermes blastia, barely come close to equaling out those who cast aside the warnings with laughter, derision, threats to go down fighting.<p>

For the first time, Elucifer's coalition is tried, tested, and summarily shot to pieces. They allied with the Entelexeia for the sake of prosperity, they say, not to be given orders.

Faced with no other option, the Entelexeia begin a systematic destruction of all Hermes blastia. Flying low over cities and towns, those who can take on Krityan form doing so, they take the greatest of pains not to injure any humans in the process and perhaps they never do. The people of Zaphias will claim otherwise when they shoot down the winged creature that was clawing at their blastia, perched atop a spire above the city.

Humanity never do commit his name to records, but to the Entelexeia he is known as Zephyr. His role as the one whose death sparked the Great War will outlive him by countless centuries.

* * *

><p>By the age of sixteen, Duke had mastered the art of the sword, the ax, and the bow. By the time he was eighteen, he had total command of the blastia as well. By the time he met Elucifer, there was not a city in Terca Lumieres he had not set foot in, and his name crossed over pub tables and inn counters. A fearsome wanderer who held no one affiliation, but chose his own causes, and had come to the service of the empire and the guilds alike.<p>

So much seen and done. At the very least, he thought he'd left childhood far, far behind. One distant day, he will look back and shudder at his foolishness.

Duke is young and soft at a time when mankind is as well.

* * *

><p>It is in the coldest month when the empire sends word to Duke, summoning him to council with the emperor. When he refuses, they spare three messengers to seek him out on the lowlands.<p>

The Entelexeia are more numerous than previously thought, they say, and the situation has become "dire." Mounting death tolls will only become more pronounced in the severe weather to come. If they can count on his blade and his service in the days to come, he can be promised vast compensation.

Duke has but one question. "The soldiers fighting the Entelexeia. Have they been informed of the dangers the Hermes Blastia will have on the world's aer supply? Do they understand what it is they fight for?"

Three messengers leave the camp alone.

The empire comes to Elucifer with a proposition formed behind the backs of the world; his assistance in the war in exchange for a phasing out of Hermes blastia in the aftermath, to be done over the course of a year. The Entelexeia shakes his head grimly.

"If you had said this months ago, you would have spared yourself more pain and heartache than you can possibly comprehend. Even now, I do not believe you fully comprehend how much blood will be spilled. If you want to do what is best for yourselves, take everything you just offered me and relay it to the rest of my kind."

Whether or not he truly believes they may heed his advice, Duke will never know. But he has his own reasons and the empire has theirs, and though they never say as much, they cannot afford to show appeasement to a race as powerful as the Entelexeia.

"Six months," says Elucifer in the end. "Remove the blastia in the course of six months. Only then will you have my word."

Six statesmen leave the camp, accompanied by their guard.

In their possession is a sheet of parchment baring a name, written in archaic scrawl.

* * *

><p>"You fight for their pride!" Duke tells him. "For their self-aggrandizement and arrogance!"<p>

Elucifer is pale, the slender jaw set firmly. Only now, with his ever present smile vanished, does Duke realizes how accustomed to it he has become; its absence throws its barbs in deep.

"If I fight the humans, after every promise I've made to them, it will cement their view of my entire race as a legion of monsters. Any hopes of us working together, any at all, will be destroyed. Time forgives and we have more of it to spare than humans do."'

Duke is woefully unconvinced. "The Hermes Blastia!"

"This war is not theirs alone, Duke. Perhaps you know less than you think?" For the first time since Duke has known him, the beloved voice sharpens. "Alkonost...the Red Hooded One. Do you know of the roving bands he has been organizing? Young Entelexeia, some of them on the cusp of evolution, brimming with more power than they know how to use. He sends them into the villages with orders to spare no one...the injured, the elderly, families with children. If you would have listened to those messengers, you would have known this."

"Do not think me unfamiliar with the cost of war," he says, though he cannot fight back the way his stomach coils in on itself, as though attempting to repel something wet and sickly. "Surely the other Entelexeia..."

" – Are sacrificing what they believe they must in order to maintain the planet," Elucifer finishes. "Alkonost is strong enough to carry them to victory and steadfast in his convictions...that humans must be kept in their place for their own safety." Disgust permeates every step he lays in his frantic pacing of the room.

"Humanity's trust is but one factor in your vision. If the other Entelexeia view you as a traitor, it all ends there! Surely you realize this!"

"Would you have me turn a blind eye to it, as the others have done?"

"I would have you find another way than turning your back on your own kind!"

"If you have come to think of the Entelexeia as spotless martyrs, then truly I have failed as your companion."

"Do not speak of me as a child!"

"Refrain from acting as one!"

The plain, honed blade lies sheathed in the corner; familiar, comforting, the hilt worn to the shape of his hand. He stalks across to it, wrenches it into his grasp, and speaks far too calmly for what he says next.

"Four thousand years wisdom is wasted on you, Elucifer."

He storms from the room without ever looking back.

The moon will be high in the sky by the time he breaks, desperately seeking out Elucifer again and finding him at the very edge of the city; when his breath rattles against Elucifer's pale collarbone, taking in exchange the crisp charge of aer, and he breathes it in deeply, almost ritualistically, as though the solid sameness of the other could hold the crumbling world together, just for a moment. When the Entelexeia runs his fingers through Duke's snowy hair, smoothing out the tangles like an apology.

They will stand and cling to one another beneath the many stars of Terca Lumieres, the ones they know by heart, with names like Brave Vesperia, Phantasia, Saleh and Tohma. Silent spectators to a world they both love.

* * *

><p>The riverbed is dry. All along the banks lie small fields and farmhouses which resemble crusts of stale bread.<p>

Where the bend turns narrowest, Duke sends Entelexeia to their deaths. Try as he might, he sees the eyes of each one in the moments before the light takes them, and it is the first life he ever took all over again. All the reasoning he has armed himself with – they are civilians, this is not about any one cause, this is a means of protecting life – cannot stop him from seeing.

Another rain of arrows strikes down upon the ditch; another wave of creatures fall. They are assisting him. They are utilizing what may be the last of their arrows. They did not ask to be placed here, he tells himself.

Finally, the inexperience of the remaining Entelexeia saves their lives. They turn and flee in a manner their elders would never for a moment consider, and Duke is left standing in the uprising dust. Once he is certain they have gone, he climbs from the ditch and slowly returns to the village.

Soldiers watch him hesitantly from their posts. Pale, dirt-encrusted faces appear at the darkened windows. A young soldier approaches without every releasing the transform bow she carries; as if she's been gripping it too tight, for too long, to let it go now.

"What were the casualties?" Duke asks her.

"Eighteen civilians before we arrived, twelve of our own since then." She looks back at the ruin. "They destroyed their crops...performed some sort of attack that affected the earth around here. We should keep an eye on the mountains; they always attack in a pincer movement."

The steep crags reach high above them. Even in this lifeless quiet, the sounds of Elucifer bringing slaughter to the waiting forces are far beyond their hearing. And that too cannot stop him from seeing.

"Take the survivors as near to the coast as you possibly can."

"I'm sorry?"

Duke sheathes the blade, closing his eyes.

"Their kind fares poorly in the water."

* * *

><p>He brings the new blade down hard, taking the very aer itself and making it keen, deadly, forcing it to burst through skin and bone. The Entelexeia that had been attacking him expires with a thin cry; yet another doomed never to see its first evolution. Most full grown Entelexeia die without a sound.<p>

As it fades away, Duke is able to get a good, albeit brief, look at its plumed crest, the way the short teal fur shifts so seamlessly into scales along the neck. Then it is gone, the small apatheia almost lost in the grit of the battlefield. The part of Duke that would have mourned has been deliberately left aside, far from these barren grounds.

_("Your knowledge of these creatures surpasses that of any other human. Truly, your assistance is crucial in sparing civilian casualties.")_

Adrenaline burning away the fatigue, he has only seconds to turn to his next opponent, yet his mind remains crystalline and calm, is able to take in the entire scene at once – three coming on his right, one on his left, there is a wound just above his calf that's caked with blood, but it is not serious, and the inside of his helmet is slick with sweat. A dull thrum, more of a low resonance, seems to shake the mountainside, and he knows that Elucifer is very near.

_("I see no reason the empire should not offer its support to your noble cause, once this fighting ceases.")_

He can see him out of the corner of his eye, just past the ridge of his helmet; swooping and dodging like a hawk in flight, despite his massive size and bulk. White coat running with rivulets of red, diving down to snap up his own kind as though they were a shoal of tiny fish. Something bright and glittering drips perpetually from his great jaws, easily mistaken for saliva. Duke does not need to turn his head to know the truth, that his companion is spitting out apatheia.

(_"For the stability of our fighting forces, Elucifer, we ask that your...identity remain concealed.")_

He wrenches his gaze away just as the first attacker lunges, this one long and saber clawed and anything but a child. He lofts Dein Nomos high above his head, fit to cleave the sky, until the blade pulsates with a clear, indigo light.

_("A sign of good faith from the empire. To be returned when there is no longer need of it.")_

* * *

><p>Nothing, not even war, survives the battery of time. Gradually, the fighting will become increasingly one-sided as the number of Entelexeia begin to dwindle; battles will become fewer and farther between, ending with killing fields that glitter like diamonds rather than run with blood. It will come to an end, but not before one last clash between the warring races.<p>

The knights remain in their encampment, preparing for the signal to move in; he walks alongside Elucifer, out for one last attempt at parley. He will always see that moment as clear as the hour it dawned, late autumn when the mornings are cold enough to freeze the dew on the grass. He will remember the remaining Entelexeia appearing over the rocks, scarred and weary, the thinning supply of aer leaving them all grossly lean, and hear the very faint, sharp intake of breath Elucifer gives at the sight of them.

The leader of the opposing Entelexeia finally stands before him as a tangible creature, not merely a name or a figure in the far distance. Duke has never seen spines interlacing with feathers in such a way, nor imagined such ferocity could lie in a single pair of eyes. As Elucifer treads out onto the open plane, he will remember the way the creature's wolfish head rises up, lips curling back over fangs the size of young fruit trees.

But his partner is larger by far, and he is forced to look down on the other Entelexeia. "This needn't go on, Alkonost. We can all end this now, sensibly, like rational creatures. Not a single life lost in battle from this point on."

The higher, smoother voice washes over the field. "And will the humans give up the Hermes blastia?" As Elucifer begins to answer, he cuts him off brusquely. "Not in a year, not in a month...this very day. If they have ever possessed any shred of sincerity, their hands will be poised to throw the switches and power them down and yes, Elucifer, then this war will end as it should have long ago."

Duke remembers the words of the leaders, Alexei in particular, repeated often: "They are in no condition to make demands." But this is a foolish, grasping thing to say. The Entelexeia are weakened, yes, but the human forces are as well; those half starved creatures on the mountainside could decimate them yet. This war has narrowed to a hair's breadth, and it is all between Elucifer and Alkonost.

"I implore you, Alkonost. Humans cannot change overnight, but they can and _will_ change! Given the chance – "

"If you are able to stand and say that, then all the deaths of our kind have meant nothing to you."

"And if you will not stand down, I have no other option."

The red creature gives a snarl that branches out across the canyons. "Come to me, then!"

Their haggard bodies crash together and they rise up into the air, claws ripping, teeth coming together with a sound like claps of thunder. The Entelexeia surge forward, what has appeared to be a surrender turning into a last stand, and Duke would rather turn his sword against himself than harm them, but the army is behind him and he will not allow them to perish so senselessly.

He fires the signal from the tip of his blade, hearing the wail as he moves forward, and fights.

He fights until the battle cries above suddenly cease and light fills the sky and –

* * *

><p>He's still breathing. How can he still be breathing with such wounds? So far from the battlefield, and Astal flew faster than he has ever flown, so how can death be hovering so very close?<p>

Duke tries to staunch the flow of blood. He's never seen so much blood. He presses down on it with bed mats, rolls of sheet, anything he can pull from their meager supplies, and cannot seem to stop talking.

"It's over, my friend. You've done it...you defeated Altonosk. They were stepping forth, all of them, what remains of both sides, they have agreed to a cease fire...you need to see it, Elucifer. It is everything you wished. It's beautiful!"

The aer krene cannot be bright enough. Duke panics at it, wonders if there's something the matter with it. It should be producing aer more quickly, shouldn't it? Anything, anything to keep Elucifer breathing, and suddenly the lifeless jaws move feebly and a broken moan escapes.

"Elucifer?"

He moves closer just in time to hear it, alarmingly faint. "Care for it."

Duke buries his face in the crimson soaked mane as though it could keep Elucifer with him. As though it were a means to share his own life.

He promises.

Until his throat goes dry with it, he promises.

* * *

><p>In the days that follow the treaty, society will knit itself back together one day at a time. The Hermes Blastia begin to be phased out as per the empire's agreement, though rumors talk of a secret supply hidden somewhere in the world. What remain of the Entelexeia become largely reclusive, conducting themselves from the shadows. The last Duke hears of her, Belius is leading a small, select group of survivors into the south, where they plan to start construction on a project of their own; just what that is remains a closely guarded secret. According to the fox's sole message, "the idea remains in its infancy and is far too delicate to speak of just yet." Elucifer believes there is more to it than that.<p>

"She isn't prepared to trust me just yet," he explains one night, the fact that he can lift his head and speak a sign of his returning strength. "Indeed, I might question her capabilities if she did. There is no grudge between us, but it will be some time before we can speak as freely as we once did."

Duke, however, will hear it all second-hand. For those first tumultuous days, he will not leave Elucifer's side.

Granted, there is little he can do. Now that the Entelexeia is quite capable of cleaning his own wounds with his tongue, there is nothing but to wait for time and the flow of aer to heal him. All the same, Duke keeps up a constant vigil outside of the cavern, warding off monsters attracted by the smell of a weakened creature. He eats his food cold, unwilling to chance a fire that could be seen from a distance, though there is little fear of trespassers to be had when camping at the end of the planet.

From the carnage of war to the spring that feeds all life. Somehow, it all returns to uncertainty and waiting. For answers, for signs. Waiting for life to begin anew.

* * *

><p>Duke wakes from his dog-sleep to find the cavern bathed in total darkness, total silence. As he bolts upright, Dein Nomos gripped tightly in his hand, he realizes that it was no stray sound which woke him, but the presence of a third party in their hiding place, much too full and overpowering to be human. His vision adjusts, allowing him to just make out the tall, winged silhouette of a second Entelexeia.<p>

"Elucifer?"

"Ahh. I'm glad to see you awake, my friend." His tone is exceptionally light and cheerful, far more than usual, and Duke suddenly feels cold. "I believe you and Khroma have met before?"

"I have," he replies, though their encounters have always been brief. Khroma, he knows, possesses neither great love nor hatred of humans, and while she has occasionally helped Elucifer act on his various plans for alliance, their longtime friendship has been born out of simple camaraderie; both are considered something of black sheep among the Entelexeia. "Though not in a long while, I'm afraid."

The dragon clicks her beak. "Elucifer. Perhaps it would be best..."

"I know, Khroma. I know," he interrupts gently. "My friend. I'm afraid you and I have been betrayed."

The way he says it, like a premonition of rain on the horizon, calm and resigned even as Duke is flying to his feet.

"Betrayed? How? By whom?"

"The empire. It seems, with the dead buried and the blastia secure, they've discovered something fresh to fear...and a creature capable of swallowing their capital is not one they'd care to continue allying with."

Duke is already gathering their meager supplies.

"We'll flee from here," he says, shoving tins of biscuit and bundles of gel into a bag, trying to estimate how long Elucifer can hold his human form in such a weakened state, whether it would be faster to travel on foot or risk flight. "We'll take to Relewiese Hollow; they will never risk moving an army down such a steep canyon. How long before they arrive?"

"Three days," Khroma answers. "They are trying to make it a quiet operation." Duke realizes that all the times he has felt hatred towards humanity have been misnomers. Hatred is something soft and simple, like an apple gel to be swallowed, compared to what he feels now.

"That will give us just enough time to be gone."

But the Entelexeia gives a slow shake of his head. "It is not to be, my friend."

"What?"

He carefully extends a wing, the one that fractured when his wounds overcame him and he fell to the rocks below. "This wing may or may not fly again, but it will certainly shatter if I attempt to use it now. And if I were to transform, the empire would be getting its wish in a manner of minutes, with far less effort than they ever anticipated."

The ragged wing lends proof to his words and sends Duke clawing for something, anything, that could possibly lend them more time. "Then what would you have me do?"

"Fly to the Sands of Kogorh," he says. "Find Plumeria and Isis. They have always been unparalleled negotiators, but more to the point, are quite physically imposing. I wish to avoid a fight above all else; the sight of yourself and three capable Entelexeia guarding the mouth of a cave should be more than enough to make them reconsider. Temporarily, at least."

"Do you truly believe that for a moment? Do you honestly think they will even consider turning back from this, after they have been ordered to destroy you? The empire thinks only of your blood!"

"Be that as it may, I place my faith in their cowardice, rather than their bloodlust."

"Elucifer...I beg of you, not this time! Do whatever you need, but do not allow your dreaming to become the death of you!" He wants so desperately to sound forceful, enraged, anything but the pathetic shaking that fills his voice now. The Entelexeia's colossal body shifts in what seems to be a slow sigh; he realizes Elucifer is merely adjusting the weight off his injured side.

"This one time, of all times, I am not merely asking. I absolutely need you to trust me."

In the hush that falls over the cavern, Duke's own choice of words lie heavily over him, and he hears the resignation in his companion's voice. He goes to the velveted paw, resting minute human hands against it, imploring. "Elucifer...please..."

The broad nose touches itself to his brow. "There is very little time, my friend. Fly now. Fly far."

His voice seems as deep and steady as the mountain range itself. This time, Duke hastens to obey. Dein Nomos at his side, he takes his proffered place between Khroma's shoulder blades and the dragon rises, already unfurling her great wings.

"Elucifer," she says. "I have given you my word!"

"And you will always have mine," Duke vows. "I will not fail you tonight!"

Elucifer's smile returns. Duke can imagine nothing in this world more emboldening.

"I leave it all in your capable hands. Farewell, my dearest ones."

They fly.

* * *

><p>Cresting the low cloud cover, it seems to Duke that they cannot possibly be moving fast enough. Each wingbeat is another tick of the clock running down Elucifer's life, every horizon an eternity away. He watches the sun inch up over the end of the planet, arc high over the sky, and still the seas are deep and dark beneath them.<p>

Finally, he can bare it no longer. He calls out to Khroma over the duel roar of wind and wing, saying that they must be headed in the wrong direction; perhaps they should find a place to touch down and get their bearings back in order. Nothing else, save the thought of Elucifer waiting on them, could possibly induce such a questioning of her capabilities; she cranes her neck back to see him, so wild and ancient and so very justified in tipping him into the waves, but she does not. Instead, she says something that will remain with him, cutting deep forever.

"Elucifer is already gone."

* * *

><p>It is a treacherous thing to think. Impossibly wicked, and even now he shames himself through it, but acceptance breeds truth and truth is the strongest defense against the mistakes of the past. So he lets it wash over him, repeats it like a mantra for survival.<p>

_Alkonost was right._

_Alkonost was right all along._

* * *

><p>In all that follows, Khroma will apologize only once, as though she knows it would make no difference if she said it a thousand. But she will explain; the desperate warning she had sent Elucifer, the options they had quickly exhausted. The final request he had made, that Duke be taken as far from the area as possible.<p>

Like a child, he thinks. The world he chooses passes in shades of black, the shapes that swim behind his closed eyes, the hands that cover his face. It is tearless, an empty place no water can reach.

"There was nothing we could have done," she says. It had all happened so quickly; by time she had arrived at their hiding place, the empire's armed forces had been no more than an hour away. "It would have been the death of us."

"And do you think I would not have rather died fighting? Tell me, Khroma, has the decision to make my own fate been taken from me?"

"Elucifer has been good to me for many centuries, in times when no other would. His last wish was that you be saved. I make no presumptions on the ethics of his choice, but merely honored it."

Her words fall cold and heavy on his shoulders, like the ceaseless crash of waves against the rocks below, and all he can wonder is how long it took Elucifer to die. If there is wisdom to be found in her assurances, it falls mute beside the louder cries of all he could have done, all he could have tried, but never did.

"His apatheia," Duke says at last. "Can you sense it, Khroma?"

"It is very distant now, but yes, I can."

"They will never leave him in peace. Not with a source of power like that at their fingertips," and he lets himself envision the soul of his partner hooked to a blastia, powering a city like an inanimate water wheel, hidden away from the eyes of the world and the treaties that had been forged. Drained of energy for countless eons, betrayed even in death. The thought courses through him like a strong drink, giving him strength for what comes next.

The dragon's fierce, avian eye fixes on him. Duke looks back at her, feels no touch of her voice upon his mind, but there is no need. They rise together.

* * *

><p>The apatheia is in transport. To minimize the chance of being seen by scouts or spotters and raising the alert, they keep low to the ground, staying some odd miles away from the army procession. Just once, Duke manages to catch a glimpse of the five armored carts in the center of it all, nearly hidden by a sea of spears. A deterrent to any brazen thieves, but not to an Entelexeia's senses.<p>

"It is in the second cart down the line," Khroma says simply. This time, Duke is not about to question her. "Have you decided on the best time to strike?"

It has been several years since he left the service of the empire – not long before meeting Elucifer, in fact – but Duke calls on every memory of procedure he can find. He scratches his plans through the loose earth as they run once more through his head.

"They will be taking it to the capital to house it in the castle. At some point, they will need to transfer it to a ship, and as it has doubtless been declared property of the empire, it will almost certainly be in a _Proteus _model_._"

A_ Proteus_, the fastest ship in the naval fleet. Or, as those at the height of crudeness referred to it, "elegant as the empress and worth three times as much."

Khroma folds her claws. "During the Great war, your armies ferried countless apatheia by iron ship. The _Proteus _are hardly as durable."

"Yes, but much faster. Therein lies the key...they will want to have it safely in the castle before word of Elucifer's murder spreads among the Entelexeia." He has begun to relish the harsh taste of the word, the bitterness it stirs. In the wake of the betrayal and all its secrecy, it feels like the first small measure of justice being done. "That will be our best time to seize the apatheia, as it is being transferred to the _Proteus._"

"And if we cannot recover it through the element of surprise?"

Duke scuffs out the plans with the toe of his boot. "Then they will be forced to bring in a traditional iron ship. Something we will not be capable of sinking."

"You are thinking of ways to sink it," Khroma says neatly, and it is not a question. "How best to recover the apatheia afterwords."

Duke does not reply.

"Do not be so eager to take revenge on your own kind, Duke. Do not let Elucifer's memory be the only thing staying you."

He turns from her too quickly.

"I know."

* * *

><p>For all their planning, all their foresight, it all happens very fast. One moment the distant sound of feet stirring up dust makes itself heard; the next, it seems, they are rising high above the maze of blue and white and silver armor. His legs lock automatically around Khroma's shoulders as they descend into a hunting dive, and the shouts around them rise in volume when her target becomes known.<p>

"Shoot them down!"

"Protect it! Protect it!"

Talons lock around the exterior and she beats her wings furiously in an effort to get the armored cart off the ground. She has said this would be the most dangerous part of the mission, the one thing she requires of Duke. His sword lashes out and down, cutting swathes of concentrated energy through the soldiers who attempt to pull them down. The hiss of arrows surround them as the archers take their posts; a fiery, burning pain shoots through his side.

Suddenly, the cart begins to lift. Arrows fly thick around them, nearly obscuring the sight of the army below and the mountains in the distance and Duke wonders if all three will meet again in the next life, if there is one –

And then the ground is far below them, and all Duke can think of is sky.

* * *

><p>There is some argument between them as to what should become of Elucifer's apatheia – Khroma says there is a traditional burial ground, though she refuses to so much as hint where it lies, and Duke makes a solid case for the northern hills – but they reach a compromise fairly quickly. There is little other choice when the empire is hounding them so.<p>

The sky is bleak when they reach the cliff edges near Ehmead Hill, the waves high and savage. This is not a conscious choice of date on their part, the weather reflecting their own mourning...there are fewer travelers on the path on such a day. Brittle with newly healing wounds, their bodies quickly plaster with rising sea spray. Duke wipes dust-sized droplets from the apatheia's shining surface.

_'I'm sorry, my friend. This is the best we can do.'_

They bury the crystal on a cliff overlooking the sea, not far from the place where Elucifer fell back into open air that distant summer day. It doesn't seem appropriate that all his life should fit into such a small hole in the hard ground. Duke lays an armful of sweet grass and crimson nadesico over the bare earth.

"The empire will be looking for the apatheia. Later...once their search has died down...I will return with a proper marker." He doesn't know just whom it is he addresses this towards.

A long while later, Khroma rises to her feet.

"It is time for me to travel on. Pharaoh has business he wants to discuss...I need to inform him of all that has occurred here."

Duke nods slowly. "I understand. Thank you, Khroma, for everything."

Her wings rustle as she begins to spread them, warming them for flight. It sounds like a cloak tail through the autumn leaves. "Do you know what you will do now?"

"I will move forward. Carry on Elucifer's wish for this world." This is what he says and this is the memory he wants Khroma to leave him on, and it would not be truthful to call it a lie. Nonetheless, it is not the first answer to cross Duke's mind.

A life, he thinks. A long, lonely life.

* * *

><p>It begins with a boy.<p>

* * *

><p>As best he can, Duke cares for the world.<p>

As the years have passed on, so have the Entelexeia. One by one he hears of their deaths, occasionally through natural causes or aer krene gone too wild, but generally at the hands of humans mistaking them for monsters. When he can, he retrieves their apatheia and scatters the aer, returning their souls to the earth they love so well.

Most often, though, his self-appointed task has been the upkeep of the krene themselves. Not only calming them when they begin to overflow, but keeping travelers from wandering through the area. He pales to think what would happen if they ever discover the secret that even Elucifer was reluctant to tell him – that Entelexeia keep their eggs hidden down in the very depths of the streams, steadily maturing over countless decades.

He keeps Dein Nomos close to his side and Elucifer's memory closer still, so that humankind will never again be allowed the abuse of either.

* * *

><p>The winter breaks gently that year, and Duke is pleased for that. The days have been particularly cold and hungry, keen on testing his resolve, but he has seen worse. When the first new buds and shoots make themselves known, he picks at them gratefully and gathers the means to make bread.<p>

Something rustles in the weeds; he lays fingertips to Dein Nomos purely as a precaution, but it is only a greater skunky, thin and haggard from casting off her winter fur. She regards him for a moment, then takes up a fighting stance.

Duke picks up a handful of seeds. "Be calm," he tells her, careful to place his gaze just above her head. She bares her teeth and raises her plumed tail, prepared to give him a toxic dose of spray. He does not show apprehension. The Geraios art of speaking to monsters is more than just a dying one – it is incredibly complex. Each species has a dozen small nuances and idiosyncrasies to take into account even without considering the individual; Egg Bears, for example, thrive on eye contact, while black wolves take it as a challenge and no sane individual would attempt it on a cockatrice. Quietta form bonds of trust through an exchange of breath; griffins exchange fresh meat (the only thing that has ever moved Duke to purchase it.) It is a labor born of love that has earned him countless scars over the years, but Duke has all the patience in the world.

"Be calm."

Finally, the skunky quiets, lowering her tail suspiciously, and Duke sets down the handful of grain. She gives him one last derisive snort before falling to with ravenous desperation. He returns to his own cooking, content with the momentary distraction from the world's mounting concerns.

The beings referred to as monsters are like that; far more intelligent than humans expect them to be. Clever enough to know the difference between him and a hunter out for their meat or pelt, which is why he has little fear of acclimating them to handouts. At the same time, their intellect is of a very different sort than that of his own. Chaos is an invention of man, and monsters have no need of war or technology, focusing instead on the present, immediate future, and any significant lessons from the past...their world is difficult, savage, unforgiving, but never shallow.

This is the life he has chosen for himself, and though it can never be called home – home was wherever Elucifer happened to be – he wants for no other.

The skunky growls around a mouthful of grain. Duke allows himself a trace of a smile. The bread is just beginning to turn golden when the message flutters down over his feet, attached to a single brown feather.

_Alexei has made his move._

* * *

><p>Life, it seems, is not content to be merely cruel, but conducts itself with a bitterest sense of humor. There is no other explanation for how a threat to the world and everything that lives in it could possibly be one and the same as this girl.<p>

The young man confronts him boldly. His eyes carry a cold fire, too full of thoughtless confidence to be threatening, but impressive nonetheless.

"Listen. She may be a bumbling, sheltered excuse for a princess, but she's one of ours. She's none of your concern. So _back off_!"

They fall into the trap of all humankind, of course; thinking ancient knowledge to be a right, rather than a privilege. That is unavoidable. The girl, however... such misplaced ideals, such false confidence. Like a child putting on airs before the grown ups. Everything about her, from her dress to the color of her hair to the sound of her voice, makes him think of spun sugar. How she came to be traveling with this group is a mystery for the ages.

"Do you say that knowing just how great a threat her existence poses?"

He can bring himself to kill her, if it comes down to that. Ignore her tears and resignation; he can even carve a path through her companions to get to her. It does not mean the idea brings him any sort of satisfaction. They are a broken group, it seems, cobbled together out of whatever societies saw fit to lose them, but they have yet to betray one another and speak to the Entelexeia as worthy equals. For these reasons alone, he would much rather keep tabs on them than engage them in battle.

"What we know's got nothing to do with it. Our motto is 'always do what's right.' And if that means having to get up close and personal with you, so be it."

What drives them on to keep him from their comrade? Even more, what was it that moved Phaeroh to spare her? It is high time he learned the answer.

"...Very well."

The barrier blastia known as Brave Vesperia has been continuously fortified through the efforts of Khroma and himself. Only Alexei remains to be eliminated, a task they have been steeling themselves to for well over a year.

How ironic that if all goes well, they will never need to raise a finger against him. Alexei's death will come in the name of the very blastia on which all his hopes have been pinned.

* * *

><p>Duke watches from the rocks below as Khroma draws closer and closer, her wings scraping the cliff edges hard enough to concern him. Landing precariously, she drops the limp and blood soaked body like a piece of prey.<p>

"Thank you, Khroma," he says somberly.

She curls her tail, which hangs like a lethal pendulum. "Save your thanks. With Belius and Astal gone, we will need every means can find to help steady the aer." As she smacks the fallen hand closer to Duke, he is relieved to find it still clutching Dein Nomos. "For what little it can do now..."

Duke kneels beside the young man and feels for a pulse; what he detects is high and rapid, not yet come down from the adrenaline rush of battle. A basic healing arte stems the grievous flow of blood; another sends him off to a more natural sleep, one that should mend him further. Of course, a mere stab wound would not be enough to kill this one...of course. Even in repose, there is an aura about him Duke prefers not to acknowledge.

"I require a word with him when he awakens. It is best he be taken to his home and you need not glare at me so, Khroma. I will carry him there."

She shakes her head disapprovingly, but there is no time for trivialities. High above, their worst fears have ceased to be a mere frightening possibility; before their very eyes, the Adephagos is metastasizing across the world. They share the sobering weight of their own miscalculation, knowing every ounce of the support they've fed into the barrier, their safety net laid down months before Zaude even rose from the sea, has not been enough to prevent this.

The dragon gives a soft, dangerous cry from low in her throat. "The murders of two Entelexeia do not spell the extinction of a race. This remains our planet and it will not end this way. Not as long as I draw breath."

Duke suspects she is speaking to herself more than him, but it no longer matters. As Dein Nomos returns to his hand once more, there is nothing left to say.

* * *

><p>Duke visits Ehmead Hill one last time.<p>

He kneels before the humble marker, drawing his fingertips over the rough cut stone. It has always been a poor substitute for the pale curve of Eluicfer's Krityan face or the softness of his true form's coat.

_'Hello again, my dearest friend. Forgive me for not coming sooner...I am afraid the possibility we always feared has come to pass. The Adephagos has returned.' _He wonders, not for the first time, if Elucifer can truly hear him, wherever he is. He tries to imagine how he would respond, if only to keep the sound of his voice from fading in his mind. _'Khroma and I could not prevent it, Elucifer. Not as you would have. But I have not forgotten the promise I made to you. I will protect our world, no matter the cost._

Long ago, when he first placed this unmarked headstone, Duke had been overcome with guilt. He had seen the imperial funerals held for fallen soldiers, heads of state, royalty...grand affairs with silk lined tombs, marble and gold trimmed mausoleums, flags covering the sky. Final tributes that were every bit as magnificent as they were solemn. When he thought of them, it felt disgraceful to bury Elucifer with nothing more than a blank stone overlooking the ocean.

It all feels like foolish melodramatics, looking back now. Elucifer would never have needed nor wanted a king's funeral.

This entire hillside is his headstone.

'_Wait for me, my friend. Perhaps_ _we shall walk together there.'_

* * *

><p>It all has turned to black now, a swollen, toxic mass spreading over the healthy pale of sky and cloud, but even this seems very far away just now. Hope for the future lies far, far beneath now, sequestered in a room deep below the surface of the earth. Duke has no more time for gazing at the skies.<p>

Soon, it will all be over. It is time for everything to return to its proper place.

He hears the thrum of wings touching down behind him. There is no need to turn, to find her looking as young and strong as she had when he was a boy, but he does anyway.

"Khroma. Have you come to stop me?"

"To dissuade you, rather," she says calmly. "And to ask you whether this is truly the option you have chosen to save the world."

He fixes his eyes on her raptor's irises, finding the same flecks of red that haunt the poisoned sky. "The time for alternatives has run out. What would you propose?"

The dragon's answer is brief.

"Speak to them."

Duke turns sharply from her, wanting to hide the sudden, irrational flare of anger that spikes in him. She has always been among the cleverest of the Entelexeia, never merely wise, so how could she be so foolish as to suggest such a thing? "They had their chance to prevent all of this. They failed to do so, and now – "

"As did you, Duke. As did I."

"I will not make the same mistakes twice. I will not place my faith in my own power, nor humanity's, nor idle dreams and fantasies." He turns his gaze to the peaks and canyons shielding the sleeping Aspio, picturing in their place colossal spires clawing their way towards the darkness high above and wishing she could see the impossible solidness there, like an unbreakable promise. "This is about numbers, Khroma. Just a number to be satisfied to bring Tarqaron to its full strength, and Terca Lumireis will at last be made right again."

"And humankind will have been adequately punished, of course."

The muscles of his shoulders go rigid to the point of pain. "Punishment has nothing to do with it. Humans have proved themselves to be unworthy of this world."

"Duke!" Suddenly the world tilts, something strikes him on the flank and the dragon is before him, filling the entirety of his vision. He feels his side, certain she has opened him to the entrails with her heavy talons, but encounters only armor and realizes in a manner of moments that she has in fact spun him around. "Do you think you are the only one who grieves for Elucifer? Do you think this is what he would have _wanted_?"

She could kill him, of course. She has always had the power to tear him apart. If she chooses to do so now, there will be no ill will in his heart, for she will at last have seen what it has taken him so long to; that they no longer have the luxury of simply distrusting humanity.

"Elucifer did what he thought in his heart to be right," he replies softly. "I must do the same."

The eyes close briefly.

"Then this is the way it must be." He watches her step back, filled with a quiet resolution that fills him with cold, and he knows he should stop her. Run to her, because he hasn't seen such a look upon her since that day among the shadows, when they left Elucifer to his death. He feels it strike to his core, yet he never stops her from spreading her wings and facing the changing world. "Goodbye, Duke."

The absolution in her voice breaks something within him, just enough to make him take a single step toward her, but it is not enough. She leaps from the top of the peak and rises, slowly but purposefully...each second taking her farther and farther into the abyss, until even her wing beats are lost to him.

Duke never sees her again.

* * *

><p>The light of the formula fills the places where she is gone. He works tirelessly, silently, and there is only the embrace of cryptic silence all about him, stirred by the splash of ancient water from the garden fountains.<p>

He hesitates upon unlocking the final command. Once the ancient city rises, there will be no turning back.

_Care for it._

He steels himself. Humanity will atone for humanity's wrongs. Duke taps in the formula and feels the earth begin to turn. Where he stands now will be the place his life meets its end.

He is thirty-three years old.

* * *

><p>They come to meet him at the peak of Tarqaron and he is not surprised. It is no more than he has come to expect of them.<p>

"Duke, we have the four elemental spirits. Their power can counter the Adephagos."

The man with the burning eyes. The Krityan who lives for her partner, the young Entelexeia. The two people he has never wanted to meet in battle – not out of fear, but because their inevitable deaths would be such a waste of potential. The six of them gather around, pleading their case as though it ever had the slimmest chance of succeeding.

"Can't you think that the world might be growing?" asks the Child of the Full Moon. "I think of the Entelexeia becoming spirits as evolution. Can't you see that?"

He hates them, then. For risking everything so naively, for being so eager to change the world. For dealing Khroma's death blow, making a sacrificial lamb of her, and for being too blind to see what the world will lose along with the Entelexeia. Perhaps most of all, he hates them for being so completely _sure_ that what they've done is right. For all he has done, and will continue to do, he has never pretended to be noble.

But he only hates them for a moment. Theirs is a naivete that has played out time and time again. Something new and exciting has fallen into their palms and all they can possibly think of is how quickly it can be put into practice; never do they stop and consider what havoc will be wrought by "moving forward". No...he can do nothing but pity them.

He draws Dein Nomos from where it rests, acting as the base of the formula.

"...It is inevitable. Come!"

* * *

><p>Four to one, then. This explains how they have managed to kill the Entelexeia. But he is not a wounded guild leader forced to live and die in secrecy or a delirious creature taken by aer or...<p>

He will not fall so easily.

A raised hand throws Divine Punishing Flash, sending them all flying back to crumple on the stone. He thinks back to those brittle tomes detailing the first attack by the Adephagos. It was written that the Children of the Full Moon lingered on for several minutes after the barrier had been erected, fading away at the peak of the world they had given their lives to preserve. How he hopes this is so...that he may be allowed to look out and see the horizon one final time. That these children may do the same and perhaps, at the end, realize the magnificence of something greater than themselves.

As the room brightens with Healing Circle's power, they struggle to their feet once more. Blood is swiped from brows; weapons are gripped again.

The first tracks of exhaustion are seeping through Duke. He pushes them aside.

"Havoc Heaven!"

* * *

><p>He is winged.<p>

The light is the only thing that cloaks him now. It clings to his skin, every plane and imperfection, and he recalls another vow he made to himself so very long ago...that Elucifer would be the only one to ever lay eyes upon his bare skin. But this form is the height of his strength and he is prepared to fight to the death in it.

"Spirits? You fools! How could the Entelexeia agree to such an uncertain plan?" he wonders allowed.

The mage stares coldly out at him from beneath a heavy layer of dust and debris. "It's not uncertain. We did it! The Entelexeia became spirits." Off to her left, the princess chimes in mawkishly.

"Using the spirits to defeat the Adephagos is not a fantasy."

"You're just clinging to the past," finishes the young man. A dangerous surge of venom courses through Duke's enhanced body. Only one thoughtless enough to concoct this plan would speak of the Entelexeia, the way of life they have protected for millenia, so callously – like a worn pair of boots, a vulgar habit he refuses to relinquish.

But it is the Krityan's accusation that burns straight through him in a way her spear cannot possibly mimic.

"Your memories of him bind you. I feel sorry for you!"

His reply is measured, of course. Careful. Entirely controlled and equally justified. This is how he will preserve the future, with the utmost dignity.

But a moment – for just that moment – he cannot claim to be fighting for the sake of the world. He takes the circle of ethereal blades that surround him and lets them fly.

* * *

><p>The power is flowing through him, stronger than he could ever have imagined possible; drawn from the very depths of the earth where the dead lie. He feels it inhabit every nerve and fiber of muscle...the will of the Spiral Draco weeping for his fallen children. There is no longer any pain, only a dull acknowledgment of sensation as the blade and spear collide with his skin and the small mage's fire artes move in to sear it.<p>

Yet even with the Fell Arms at his side, he knows there is not much time. The Adephagos will be upon them soon, having multiplied to an unprecedented level. At that point, there will be no holding it back by any means.

When the Krityan finally went down, there was nothing to stop him from eliminating the Child of the Full Moon and with her, all the group's healing artes. Her head is in the lap of the small mage who scrambles frantically, but hopelessly, for one more gel. Duke has no interest in finishing them off; every life force will be vital if his plan is to succeed.

It is only the dark haired man who faces him down now, streaked with deep red and radiating something far more disconcerting than mere hatred. They crash together savagely, blades locking and artes flying. He opens his mouth to speak and the very air around him burns, and in his life Duke has seen it enough times to recognize it, but it before the blades can connect –

"_This ends now! O' brilliant blade as cold as steel, rend the infinite darkness, and crush my enemies to nothing! Savage Wolf Fury!_"

It cannot be blocked. It can scarcely be seen. The man's sword blows are everywhere at once, cleaving through him again, again. The pain he has scarcely noticed until now surges, forcing the strength from his limbs and the breath from his lungs, and the ground rises up to meet him and it is then that Duke knows he has finally, truly failed.

One way or another, Terca Lumireis perishes tonight.

It is a deep, swollen sort of agony that makes him wonder if he is bleeding internally. Summoning up his strength, he rolls onto his back. From this angle, the royal blue crystals aimed towards the heavens resemble shards of shrapnel poised to enter an eye. The night sky goes on and on, extending far beyond the pain.

"I'm sorry, Elucifer...I could not keep my promise..."

He hears the labored breaths of the one who struck him down. The young man enters his field of vision. "I don't know what Elucifer was like, so this doesn't mean much coming from me. But if Elucifer fought for humans during the Great War, then I don't think he'd want his friend to reject humanity!"

_And just like that..._

Elucifer grinning through the candlelight, sharing their visions into the faintest hours of the morning.

Lying amongst the tall grass, listening to the pulse of the earth.

Keeping warm on the battle-torn slopes of Mt. Temza, dreaming of war's end.

"Elucifer's wish. To protect the world...peace for all living things..."

_Care for it_...

The sounds of the group moving into formation come to him on the night air. Claiming the lone spoil of their victory; one chance to preserve their future. Duke closes his eyes.

_Care for it._ Such a simple vow to make and a simpler one to keep, and even this he could not do. Even now, years after parting from Elucifer, the world is in no better a state than it was when they first begun. Has he truly changed for the worse? Has Terca Lumireis?

_'Elucifer. What were you thinking at the end? What became of all your dreams as they were surrounding you?'_

Something flickers across the dark palette of his closed eyelids; he opens them to find the sky streaked through with the new creatures: the altered souls of Entelexeia. Freed from the confines of their blastia, drawn to gather above this tower...converging to save the world that killed them, made chattel of them, and finally converted them to spare itself. A damaged world, but nevertheless their own.

Care for it.

Duke stands.

_So be it._

* * *

><p>Entelexeia, humans...the demise of one race for the safety of another. The impossible light overtaking everything, until even an ancient, tainted thing such as Taqaron becomes kinder in appearance. He watches the millions of newly born spirits darting overheard, resurrections, miracles even, yet every one of them living proof that the world has been irreparably altered. The sheer beauty of it cannot disguise what has been lost tonight.<p>

"...Was this truly the right thing for us to do?"

"I don't know. We lost all the blastia and with that, the barriers are gone," says the young man, misunderstanding his question. "But we chose that path, so I guess we gotta live with it. As long as we're still alive, we'll be okay."

Duke doesn't believe he could come up with a statement more foolish if he tried, but something in the way he says it makes his heart ache. For the first time, he allows himself to look at the man...truly look at him, his dark hair and slender jaw, the scar on the side of his neck. "You are strong."

"Yeah, well, that's because I'm not alone." When he smiles, it is so bright and earnest and familiar, and Duke knows he cannot deny what he sees any longer. As though he never left...and the last ten years have been no more than a series of illusions waiting for him to blink himself awake. Even when his back turns to make the long trek back to the ground, Elucifer has never felt closer.

"Hey, Duke! See you around."

Duke is careful not to look back.

* * *

><p>He makes quite certain to get clear of viewing distance before lifting a hand to heal himself; the aer soothing numerous lacerations over his body feels like a sign of failure...he would prefer the scars. The knowledge of all that has occurred swims through his head until the skull aches.<p>

The morning, hitherto breezeless, is suddenly stroked by the sound of a high wind. He raises his head to study the clouds but finds only sun breaking, and by the time the small cyclone has appeared before him, he knows precisely who it is.

"You..."

A smile spreads over her tiny face. "Hello, Duke." And even if her voice has changed, becoming faint and soft along with her appearance, he would know the sound of it anywhere.

"Khroma?"

"I am now known as Sylph, the Binder of Winds. But yes, you once knew me as Khroma the Entelexeia." He had known she was up there, of course. When the sky had burned with new spirits like so many stars come to life, he had wondered if she flew with them. It had given him the faintest of comforts, in a moment when all the world seemed bright with promise.

Now...

She is so small, ridiculous looking, like a child's doll wound up and set into flight. Khroma was savagely beautiful in the way all Entelexeia are. Frantically, he combs through her words for some sign, any sign, of the creature he once knew, and finds nothing of her's. She is a stranger to him, a stranger who keeps Khroma's memories.

"And what are you now, Binder of Winds?"

"The same as I have always been; a guardian of the world." Her smile fades. "And to be quite frank, offended that you need ask."

"It seems that I am destined to fail Elucifer time and time again. In the end, I could not save the world any more than I could have saved him...or you." He clenches his fist around the hilt of Dein Nomos. "I lost sight of it, the Terca Lumeries of our dreams. A world where humans and Entelexeia coexisted peacefully, as equals...never calling for the sacrifice of one another."

"You speak as though the Entelexeia have died out."

"For all intents and purposes. Krones and the young dragon, and for how long? Hunted as monsters or else slowly starved to death as the aer supply dwindles, it matters not. In time, they too will be converted by humans."

"I cannot tell you which path to follow," she says, gently, like Khroma never would have. All at once, the anger fades from his heart and he simply wishes her gone, for there is so much to mourn. "I do wish I could share the world with you as it appears through a spirit's eyes. That you could see how much life there is this morning, beginning all around us. Not the same as once was, to be sure, but joyful nonetheless, radiant. I cannot begrudge it."

"Then I leave you to it." He sets his shoulders. "I will find my own way...there are still corners of this world unspoiled by humankind. Yurzorea or Weccea...or..."

"...Ehmead Hill?"

He expects her to leave it at that, to take to the winds and fly carelessly from his life. When she does neither, he walks on down the path, long and lonely and stretching into the mountains, and the peaks above Aspio come back to him, clenching his heart. He hears the breeze picking up once more and it is finally enough to stop him in his tracks. "Khroma...please, forgive me."

"He was right. You truly are ridiculous sometimes," says the wind with a smile. It chills the back of his neck blowing by, sends his hair flying.

It almost sounds like dragon's wings.

* * *

><p>From distant villages, he can hear the sound of clamor and commotion. Everyone racing to erect makeshift barriers against the monsters. Despite this, the world itself feels almost calm today; the sort of quiet that comes after a long illness.<p>

Duke cannot say whether he will come to love it as he once did, or even if he already does, but he knows that the Krityan woman was wrong. It is not mere memories that have bound him; memories are not strong enough. The jesses that hold fastest are the ones that cannot be worn down by time alone. Just what those are, it seems he has only begun to comprehend...and as of today, he has a lifetime in which to do so.

It may be just enough.

* * *

><p>As he climbs the still paths that piebald Ehmead Hill, his footsteps come more quickly...petrified of what he may find, but needing so desperately to be there. The sun is glittering on the sea, but Duke sees none of it.<p>

The grave is broken. Split down the center, like a jagged tooth.

He rushes to its side, running gloved hands over the sharpened edges, furious and roiling with disgust, because he does not dare to hope...and then the voice comes. Not from behind him or above him, strong enough to extend beyond the cliffs and all the way over the sea, but choosing of its own volition to linger at this minuscule space on the planet, wrapped all around him like an infinite embrace.

"My friend. It is good to see you again."

~Fin~


End file.
